Chapter Two

 

*2 YEARS LATER*

I glanced down at my Church program. It was the same faded blue paper that the Church had used to print their music missals for years. My fingers tightened their grip on the program, and I slowly took a deep breath. It didn’t matter how many times I put on my Sunday dress and went to our local church, something about it never felt quite right.

I loved Jesus, God, and being a Christian, but I still felt like there was more to me than this bubble I was living in. I had a best friend, Brandon. I had two good Christian parents who had been agood influence on me, even if that came with certain expectations. Expectations I wasn’t sure I could ever truly fulfil. They wanted me to be a good Christian woman, get married, have kids, and live this good, pure life. The problem had always been that, in my heart, that sounded boring. I knew I fit the part well so far. I wore bright clothes – dresses – and I was as nice to everyone as I could be. I was abstinent and loyal, but I still felt like something was missing from my life.

Today was my birthday. Turning eighteen would be the start of an adventure because after church I was telling my parents I bought myself a one-way ticket to Seattle. I wasn’t planning on moving. I just needed to take some time to try and find myself. I didn’t know why I picked Seattle. Maybe because it was an easy train ride from my hometown of Salem, Oregon.

The city called my name.

My parents were going to be mad, furious, actually, which was why I bought my ticket on my own and didn’t plan on telling them until today. I glanced at my watch. My train boarded at six p.m. The only person who knew was Brandon. Looking over at him – his back straight and his eyes focused on the pastor – I knew he was pissed. He told me Seattle wouldn’t be good for me, said there would be a lot of temptation and begged me not to go. It was our first fight. I didn’tget worked up often, but I was tired of feeling stifled by everyone because of my faith. I could be a good person and a Christian and still see the world and enjoy life. I knew I didn’t have to pick one and they all acted as if I did.

I watched Dad singing passionately as the choir performed “Halleluiah.”

I loved that song. It was one of my favorites, but sometimes I couldn’t understand why Dad loved it so much. Dad acted like he was all about forgiveness in church, but the second I messed up, he was sure quick with his hands and his words. Being hit hurt, but was nothing compared to the sting of being told you are a disappointment for years on end.

The pastor began the sermon, and I laughed as he began to talk about living with temptation. He talked about desires of the flesh, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony that he was discussing this today – the day I was leaving for Seattle. I put my hands in my lap politely but had to keep my head down so no one would see me giggling. After a while, I felt a pair of eyes on me, and I glanced up to see Dad burning holes in my head with his gaze.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

He glared at me. I was in serious trouble. He was all about politeness and respect, and for the women…silence. I was taught to be quiet and do what I was told. That wasn’t exactly in my nature.

The minute we went home, I told them we needed to talk. They were intrigued. As usual, I got word vomit. I shot the truth at them.

“Mom, Dad. As you know, I’m turning eighteen today, and as a birthday gift to myself, I bought a ticket to Seattle. I’ll be staying there for a while. I want to…”

“What?!” Dad yelled, cutting me off.

I swallowed. “I’m going to Seattle. Tonight.”

“Like hell you are!” he screamed.

“I’m going! I’m so sorry, but I’m an adult. You can’t make me stay.”

They were furious. My mom cried as if this was some big tragedy and Dad put his foot down. He was a good guy but was prone to violence when things didn’t go his way. They yelled, and I ran for my room. I didn’t need to listen to them put me down…again. As I ran for the stairs, Dad grabbed the hem of my dress and jerked me back. I was scared, but I stood firm as I toppled down the last few stairs. I grabbed the hem of my dress and jerked it away from his grasp. I ran up the stairs faster before he could catch me again and locked my door. I was leaving early for the train station. I didn’t have to sit here and listen to this. Dad was still banging on the door, and my mom cried for me to come back downstairs.

When the taxi I called told me he was outside, I faced my fear and went down the stairs again where Dad was now sitting with my mom. I went to Mom and hugged her. I could feel her tears on my face.

“I’ll be back,” I told her quietly. “I won’t be gone long. It’s just a little get-to-know-me trip. I promise.”

“You can’t promise anything! You aren’t going anywhere!” Dad yelled, grabbing my shoulders and jerking me around.

“Dad! You’re scaring me,” I whimpered.

“My daughter is not going to be some slut.”

I closed my eyes, apologized to God, and slapped Dad square across the face. I heard Mom gasp as I ran out the door as fast as I could. The cab driver looked up from the puzzle he had been doing on his cell phone and smiled at me. I didn’t say anything but got in the vehicle as fast as I could, slamming the door behind me.

“Drive!” I said as Dad approached the car. “Hurry!”

The cab driver didn’t say anything; his hands shook as he put the keys in the ignition and drove off, leaving my parents in the background. The minute he drove away, I started crying.

“Is everything okay, ma’am?” the older cabbie asked.

“Yes, sir. I just… Well, it’s complicated. Thank you for rushing.”

“Of course. Where are we headed?”

“The train station, please.” I leaned my head back against the seat. My head was throbbing, probably from anxiety.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I dozed off. Thirty minutes later, we pulled up. I paid him and got out. I had never been in a train station before. In fact, I rarely left Salem. There were all sorts of people, and I was grateful I changed out of my church dress. My blonde hair was still curled, and I was wearing a light-yellow sweater, jeans, flats, and a long white necklace. Slightly more casual than my fancy church attire. I looked at my ticket so I could see where I was headed. I planned to hang out in that area so I didn’t get lost and miss my train. When I got over there, I texted Brandon and my parents an apology. Once I’d hit the send button and tucked my phone away in my bag, Iheard my stomach growl and realized it was around three in the afternoon, and I still hadn’t eaten.

I headed to the nearest gift shop to grab a snack. I walked to the back where a wall of junk food filled my gaze. I licked my lips and quickly decided on a blueberry muffin and water…it was healthy-ish. I never got this kind of food at home, so decided to treat myself.

Anode to my new freedom.

As I headed to the register, I started looking over my boarding instructions. My nerves were getting the best of me, and I felt very alone. I turned to set my stuff on the dirty granite counter, but before I could fully turn around, I ran straight into a wall. I put my hands in front of me to push myself away and looked up to realize it wasn’t a wall I’d run into...it was a man.

A very large man.

He was at least six feet two, extremely muscular with a light tan and dark black hair that sat over his eyes. His eyes were dark as well, almost black. He looked almost sinister, evil, but there was a glimmer of something else in his eyes. He wore all black, except for his shirt, which was black with hints of red.

“I’m so sorry,” I stuttered as I backed away. “I… wasn’t paying attention.”

He smirked. My whole body tingled. I felt awestruck by him.

“It’s fine. Reading over your boarding instructions pretty intensely there, aren’t you, girl?”

“Well, yeah, um, I have never been to a train station. I’ve never been outside of Salem actually, my hometown, so I’m nervous and new to this whole thing.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and gave me an unreadable expression.

“I’m sorry. I have a really bad case of word vomit when I’m nervous.” I felt the need to say something to his blank expression and raised eyebrow since he wasn’t saying anything.

He laughed and turned to the register.

“I’ll get her muffin,” he said flatly to the cashier as he set his food down. I set my stuff down on the counter.

“Are you sure?”

He gave a quick nod. I looked over to see what he’d bought: a sugar-free energy drink, a fitness magazine, two bananas, and a bag of beef jerky. He caught me staring at his stuff and shot me a small smile in response to my curiosity. I watched him cash out, and then he handed me back my stuff.

“Enjoy your muffin,” he said with a wink.

“Wait, what’s your name?” I called out, but he was already gone.

It was like he was never there. I shook my head and quickly ate my muffin. I carried my water around and sipped it slowly as I paced around the train station, eager to reach Seattle. Seeing all the different types of people was fascinating. In Salem, everyone was the same. Practically everyone was clean-cut and Christian, especially in my circle.

At five fifteen, I walked up to my gate. Unfortunately, I was the last one to board. I walked on the train and through the full cabins, trying to push my bag further up my arm. It was getting heavy and causing a burning sensation in my shoulder. I kept walking further back on the train, and all the seats were still full. I was getting annoyed. It had been a long day, and now I couldn’t find a seat on this dang train. I couldn’t stand to wait around any longer. Finally, I got to the back of the train and there were only four small cabins left to look in. The internet never mentioned this train being full, so I imagined one of the cabins left had to have an open spot. Each cabin held two people.

Please say one had a slot.

Full. Full. Last one to the left full. Then I looked at the last cabin on the right and only saw one person. Thank God. I used my legs to pull my bag back up my arm as I slid the door open.

“Sorry,” I said to the guy resting his head on the windowsill. “This is the last open space.”

I stood at the front of the cabin waiting for his permission even though I had no choice and I didn’t need it. Annoyed, the guy lifted his head, and we both had a look of surprise when I realized it was the guy from the gift shop, the mysterious dark guy who bought me the muffin.

“Oh, it’s you,” I gasped. “I’m sorry. I see you were trying to sleep. I’ll be quiet.”

I made another attempt to pull my bag over my shoulder. It was burning so bad.

“Set your bag down, girl. You look like you’re about to crush under its weight.”

I immediately dropped it on the seat with a large grunt. He let out a laugh. I took the seat across from him and immediately let my head fall back. I stayed there for a minute until the mysterious guy’s voice broke my internal silence. I realized he had been staring at me the whole time.

“Tired?” he asked coolly.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day.”

“Why’s that?”

“I already told you most of it. I left my hometown for the first time and am headed to a big city. I spent four hours at a train station, wandering around aimlessly, because I had to leave my house early for personal reasons. To add to that, I had to slap my own father across the face just to get in the taxi. I went from being a good person that my family was proud of to a major disappointment. So, I’m just a wee bit tired.”

“Do you always say the first thing that comes to your mind?”

“Yeah...yeah, unfortunately, I do. It’s a disease. So, do you have a name? Mine’s Aly.”

“Yeah, the name is X.”

 

Getting out of my hometown was the best thing that ever happened to me. It gave me freedom and allowed me to stop drowning under the weight of my past. My ticket out was a contract as a pro-boxer. I signed the day I turned eighteen, a year or so after Sarah’s death, and six months after getting out of juvie. I was successful immediately. X became my stage name.

My coach’s idea.

X was serious. X had power, sex without attachments, and a life outside of his past.

The minute I said goodbye to my parents and that god-forsaken town, my stage name became my only name. I left Axel back in that town. My parents tried to reach out to me, to keep our relationship going, but I shut them out. Their love confused the fuck out of me. They fought to get Sarah justice and to get me out of juvie, but they never visited me and weren’t there the day I found out Sarah died.

They didn’t take the time to get to know me or understand my anger. They spent too much time either fearing my temper or trying to change it. If I was chemically screwed up, I was going to stay that way because, as I said, I’d rather live a life learning how to control my anger than as a medicated robot. I intended to live fully. If my parents couldn’t accept that, then we’d always remain distant. Getting to know me was part of the deal. I was sick of being loved for being their son, an arbitrary title, and not for who I was on the inside.

I never wanted to hear my birth name again. I had a gig in Seattle and was going to be there for a few months. At the train station, I ran into this short blonde girl. She looked like she was straight out of a church club or something, but she was still very pretty. She had perfect skin and super light-brown eyes that were wide and full of wonder. I bought her a muffin because I found her intriguing. Her story was all too similar to mine, except her journey was just beginning and she was alone. I remember the first day I left my hometown and how scared and unsure I felt, but at the same time feeling this sense of power I’d never had before.

“X?” she asked. “Is that short for something?”

“My name is irrelevant,” I snapped, probably a little too harshly.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, sitting back slightly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You’re fine. So…” I leaned back and placed my hands behind my head. “Why Seattle?”

“I was desperate. Seattle seemed cool, and it was an easy train ride from Salem. There’s no big reason. The city just called my name.”

“Sounds like you had it all planned out,” I said, letting the sarcasm seep out of my voice. “ You never mentioned why you are so desperate to get away from your hometown or why you felt the need to slap your father in the face to get here?”

“Is this twenty questions?” She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. I’d hit a nerve.

“Just curious…” I shrugged.

“Well, when do I get to ask you questions?”

“You don’t. Google me, all my stats and stuff are on there.”

She frowned. “Why do you get to dictate this conversation and tell me what to do and say?”

“Because I do.”

“Well, I don’t take orders from anyone,” she said with an attempt to assert dominance.

I looked her up and down. “Somehow I doubt that.”

When her face dropped, as if I had said something all too real to her, so I decided to be slightly gentler.

“So why did you have to leave? “I said, using a milder tone this time.

She looked at me skeptically. Why did I get the feeling that despite her lack of a filter, she’d never really been able to trust anyone?

“I don’t know who I am and no one will let me find out. I couldn’t take it. I was going to suffocate to death.”

I nodded. I understood all too well what she was saying.

“Your family overprotective or something?”

“Yes...and no. My family, friends, everyone I know are devoted Christians and I... I am too. I just…there’s more I think…I…” She put her face in her hands. “I’m such a terrible person. I hit my dad so I could get away from my faith.” She sounded so distraught.

“Okay, first,” I said, grabbing her hands and pulling them away from her face. She flinched the second I touched her.” If that qualifies you as a terrible person, then I’m going straight to hell. Second, okay, God forgives, right? I’m no Christian or anything close, but my best friend was, and she always talked about God’s forgiveness or some shit like that.”

“Well, I never knew that God,” she mumbled. Her head flew back in horror. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I just said that. I…”

I bit my lower lip as I watched her looking around like someone was going to hit her. Someone had seriously brainwashed her.

“Are you Dobby?”

“Excuse me? “She looked at me curiously.

“Have you seen Harry Potter?”

“Of course.”

“Well, you remind me of Dobby when he speaks badly about his ‘family’ or whatever.”

“Oh my gosh! She broke out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “I am Dobby. Wow. You can be funny.”

“I’m fucking hilarious when I want to be.”

She made a weird face, but reined it in quickly, but, not fast enough because I caught it.

“What was up with that face?”

“What face?”

“You know.” I paused. “You’ve never been around people who curse, have you?”

“No, not really.” She looked down and twiddled her thumbs. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. You’re in for a lot of surprises, that’s all. You better be careful in Seattle. The world is bigger and meaner than you think.”

“Isn’t that a little cynical?”

“No,” I said firmly. “It’s reality, and you better be prepared for it, or you’re going to get hurt.”

She looked at me with an unreadable expression, but behind the expression I could detect fear and hesitancy.

“Well, um, I better get some sleep. I have a long day ahead of me.”

I nodded and plugged in my headphones. I tried to look out the window and zone out like I usually did on long rides, but I couldn’t stop looking over at her. I couldn’t figure out why for the life of me. I think in a weird way she reminded me of Sarah. Not in looks or personality traits, but the innocence that radiated off her and the kindness she brought out of me. I was not a nice person. Far from it. I hadn’t been since Sarah. But I was gentler with this girl. It would come out naturally. I couldn’t shake the memories of who I was with Sarah.

I glanced back at Aly. She used her bag as a pillow and tucked her knees up to her chest, placing her feet on the seat. She was the tiniest thing I’d ever seen. I mean, she couldn’t have been over five feet tall.

She was trying to sleep, but I could tell she felt uncomfortable with me there. She kept opening her eyes, looking around, and closing them again. Then she’d shift and try to settle, only to roll her eyes and scoot back over. After thirty-five minutes, I eventually burst out laughing.

“Are you uncomfortable, girl?”

She sat up and rolled her eyes. “This is hopeless.”

“Trains suck to sleep on. Almost as much as planes.”

“I bet planes are amazing!”

“Yeah, they are pretty great.”

For the next few hours, we made small talk, and then we finally got to our destination. We were last to get off, so we both stayed seated until most of the people in front of us had gotten out of their cabins. I let her get out first because she was a girl, but also because her bag was drowning her and I wanted to give her a second to figure out how to get it off the train. She kept saying sorry as she figured out ways to get it higher up on her shoulder. Eventually, I leaned over and showed her a way to put it over the opposite shoulder and across her body to relieve some of the weight. She was super grateful, but clearly very embarrassed as her cheeks turned bright red. After we got off the train, I watched as Aly started to leave, but then she turned back towards me and gave me a shy goodbye. I nodded in return.

I gritted my teeth once she was out of my sight. I didn’t like the idea of her being alone in Seattle. She was far too fucking innocent for this city.

Sarah.

I had played hero once and failed. I wasn’t about to try again.

I made my way outside to wait for some fancy-ass car to pick me up. I didn’t have to travel by train. At this point in my career, I could afford a hell of a lot better, but I liked the silence it gave me, though it hadn’t exactly been quiet.

I waited impatiently for a few minutes when I saw my black and red car start to pull up. I picked my bag up and began to head over when I heard a high-pitched shriek coming from outside the train station. I turned to the left. Right past the edge of the train station by the rental car place was Aly. A man had the handle of her purse and was attempting to pull it out of her grasp. She was pulling back as hard as she could. I stayed in place for a moment, but then he jerked her bag so hard, she went flying back onto her ass. She frowned and then looked like she was begging him to give it back to her. That was about all I could take. I groaned and stomped over to the pair of them. He was taking steps toward her, I assume, to intimidate her somehow. Aly stayed on her butt pathetically. The guy started to hover overher; I felt my heart rate jitter from zero to sixty in half of a second. I stepped up to him.

“I think you should back off and give the girl her bag back.” My voice was low and full of warning.

The guy threw the bag at me before I could finish and bolted. I was a big guy and a famous boxer. I wasn’t surprised to see the little pussy running for his life. Good. I glanced down at the girl on the floor. Aly looked up at me and then down at herself. I reached out my hand, and she stared at it for a second before grabbing it. I looked down at the hand that was in mine. Her hands were so small andsoft compared to mine. Mine were calloused and rough, and hers felt like silk in my palm. I pulled her up to her feet, probably a little too quickly as she had to steady herself. Once she had stable footing, I handed her purse back to her.

“I think this is yours,” I said, extending the purse out to her. She slowly wrapped her hands around the handle of the bag.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. How did you even know I was here?”

“Oh, I was stalking you.”

She smiled. “For real?”

“I heard you shriek.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Her smile disappeared and she looked down at her feet.

“Take this.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a can of pepper spray. I didn’t even bother waiting for her to take it, I just placed it in her hand. “You’d be surprised how handy it can be.”

She grinned when she saw what it was. “Why do you have pepper spray?”

“Because I have anger issues, and I prefer not to put myself in the position to hurt someone outside of the ring. Now give me your phone number.”

She looked intrigued by what I said but then frowned when the last part of what I said registered.

“My phone number? “She seemed very unsure. Geez, where did this girl grow up that someone asking for her phone number was such a strange concept.

“Yeah, I want you to text me when you get to wherever the hell you’re going to.”

“Really, um, okay.” She fumbled through her purse as she searched for her phone.

She handed me a white flip phone. It looked ancient and girly. I quickly typed my number in and handed it back to her.

She still looked rattled and confused, but I didn’t care. She didn’t need an explanation, mostly because I didn’t have one.

“Don’t forget,” I said as I jogged off to my car.

My driver, who was also my buddy Caylan, raised an eyebrow at me in response to witnessing me putting my number in Aly’s phone.

“It’s not like that,” I said as I got in the car. “She’s pathetic. I’m just making sure she doesn’t get killed.”

“How noble of you.”Caylan’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and I could see him smirking at me from the front seat.

For real though, what was I doing?